


Don't You Dare Hurt My Love

by Raven-Star (rea40)



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Caretaking, M/M, revenge torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 14:30:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5747905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rea40/pseuds/Raven-Star
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short little stories about John and Jim's responses to the other being injured.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jim's Soldier

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the Sherlock franchise. 

Jim Moriarty was wild on a good day. He had no qualms about hurting those who crossed him. He was unpredictable and violent. But there was one thing that could cause him to turn into something worse. There was one person in the world that was important to Jim. This man held the greatest criminals heart and soul. Jim Moriarty belonged to this man and this man belonged to him. The man, who with one word could make Jim turn the world to blood and flame went by the name John Watson. And if John Watson was anything but perfectly happy and healthy Jim would do anything to fix that. And if he was injured Jim turned into a force of nature. He ripped people to pieces with his bare hands. Which is what he was doing right now. Three men who thought kidnapping John Watson would be a good idea were currently hanging from the ceiling, chains wrapped around their wrist. They were unrecognizable, missing body parts, covered in blood, bones broken, teeth missing. Jim had no mercy for those who took his treasure from him. And those who injured him deserved nothing more than the most excruciating deaths possible.  
Sebastian had taken John home when they had found him. Jim had placed kiss after kiss all over Johns face before sending him away to get fixed up. John had a few bruises and a bump on the head but was otherwise unharmed. And some of the damage done to the kidnappers had been there before Jim had appeared. John was a fighter.  
With the three men ripped to shreds Jim headed home. A quick stop at one of his apartments for one of the shortest showers he had ever taken and then he was walking into their bedroom where John was sitting on the bed with an ice pack on top his head. His face was a bit swollen, pale bruises forming and a few tiny cuts.   
“How are you darling?” Jim asked, hovering but not touching.  
“I’m fine.” The words were spoken wearily but Jim knew better than to contradict John.  
“Would you like to lay down?”  
“Yeah, just let me put some balm on these.” The walked into the bathroom, Jim a few steps behind John the whole way, a nervous bounce to his step. John settled himself in front of the mirror with the balm and Jim sat on the edge of the bathtub.  
Jim watched as John expertly rubbed the balm onto his tender bruises, bandaging anything that needed it and taking an aspirin. Jim wanted to help but he also did not want to accidentally hurt John so he sat and watched. His hands twitched on the edge of the porcelain.  
Once John was done Jim took his hand and lead him into their bedroom before helping John change into sweats and a tee-shirt. He changed as well before crawling into the bed next to John.  
They curled protectively around each other.  
“I love you.” John spoke softly.  
“I wish I could lock you away so you never got hurt.” Jim looked very serious.  
“I wish we could stay in bed forever and survive on sex.” John had a smirk on his face.  
“I could get on board with that.” Jim responded. His face softened “I love you more than anything.”  
“I know.” John whispered the words before drifting off into sleep.  
Jim tightened his arms around John “I would burn the world before losing you.”


	2. John's King

“Sit down” The words were steely, a clear command but there was a gentleness and worry behind them that made Jim feel safe. He shuffled over to the kitchen table, John held his elbow then helped him lower himself down into one of the chairs. A first aid kit (almost excessively stocked) was pulled out of seemingly nowhere. They were stashed all over the house, at least one in every room, as it was for every building Jim owned.  
“What happened, tell me exactly.” Clear and concise, still a command. That was Captain John Watson for you, a doctor and a leader all rolled into one. Then that was rolled in to a big ball of sweet, fluffy, kind, beautiful goodness. Jim giggled at the thought but quickly sobered when John sent a sharp glance his way.  
“There was an unexpected gun.” Jim spoke, planning to leave it at that, but a sharp pinch to his uninjured arm made him yelp and elaborate. “We cornered the bastards who had been running the slave trade. I let Seb and the others do all the dirty work.”   
Jim glanced down at John. The blond man was kneeling on the floor, inspecting the bullet wound on Jim’s right arm. It was little more than a graze but Jim would probably be unable to fully use the arm for at least a few weeks.   
“Continue” The words were gentler now, less of a command now that John knew Jim was not in serious danger.  
“One of the body guards got past Seb while he was distracted, and I was sending orders for the clean-up crew. Bang, one shot hit me, bang, bang, bang, three hit him.” A wicked grin spread across Jims face.  
A chuckle escaped John as he did the finishing touches on Jims bandage before standing and helping Jim up.  
“Bed rest, for at least the rest of the day.” Once again it was a command and Jim had no choice but to obey. Last time Jim had ignored Johns doctor rules he had ended up tied to the bed for 3 days.   
The meandered to the bedroom, Johns hand always on some part of Jim. He helped Jim get comfortable in the bed, set the TV up on Jims favorite gameshow (the man always got the answers correct, most times before the host even finished the question), and gave him a gentle kiss before telling him he would be home soon.   
The moment John had left their bedroom his entire demeanor changed. The gentleness of before was gone. His face was hard, his eyes ice cold. He walked out of the building and immediately Sebastian was next to him.  
“Moran” Sebastian barely stopped himself from flinching. Jim was terrifying of course. He was wild and unpredictable. He loved chaos. John was something else though. Usually Sebastian and John got along great. Seb even considered them friends. But when John got angry he was the equivalent of the devil. He was all cold precision, a force to be reckoned with. And he would not stop until he got revenge.   
Sebastian avoided angering John above all else. And the fact that John had used his last name meant Sebastian was going to be experiencing some dire consequences for letting the boss get injured.  
“The subject?”  
“Still alive, we only injured him to stop him from running.”  
“Three bullets and did not kill him?”  
“We know the rules, unless needed keep those who injure the boss alive for you.” Everyone learned that rule the hard way. The first time Jim had been injured John had killed everyone involved, including Jims mean who did not keep Jim from harm. John had no qualms hurting those who failed in their jobs.  
“Good.” The single word sent an unstoppable shiver down Sebastian’s back.  
Sebastian drove john to the warehouse when the man was being kept. He was tense, afraid to take his attention of John.  
They walked into the building when Carl Johnson was tied to a chair in the middle an empty floor. He was conscious, his wounds crudely bandaged. He did not looked up when they walked in.  
“You know, my darling Jim was only trying to do good. He is quite against slave trade. But you decided to shoot him. And that’s not very nice.” The words were spoken kindly, with a cooing edge to them.   
The tide up man obviously was so delirious with pain that he could not understand the words, because he looked up and seeing John croaked “help me”. The words caused a sneer to form on John’s handsome face, his eyes turning darker and icier.  
“Oh no, I’m going to do a lot more than help you.” The near delirious man seemed to glow at the words. He was only comprehending the tone that John spoke in, kind and sweet. Sebastian backed away, he did not want to accidentally get caught in the cross fire.  
The tied up man did not seem to even register the first cut. John moved fast and swiftly, knowing exactly where to cut to cause maximum pain but keep him alive. The man began screaming by the third deep cut in his chest, was sobbing when his fingers were first broken knuckle by knuckle, and was silent except for breathing when John had finally had enough. There was blood everywhere and the man was nothing more than a shell. A bloody body, with most bones broken beyond repair, his consciousness probably gone. Then John turned and without looking at the tied up man, grabbed Sebastian’s hand gun and shot the man in the head, a perfect shot, killing him instantly.  
The returned to the car and Sebastian began to drive.  
“You will work without pay for two weeks.” John spoke, his voice a sharp command.  
“Understood.” Sebastian waited for a harsher punishment.  
“IF this happens again you’ll be on rookie duty for a year.” Sebastian barely stopped from groaning. Rookie duty meant he had to train any new recruit and John knew that he hated it.  
“Understood.”   
‘Good, now take me home.”  
“Yes sir”.  
When John returned home, he checked on Jim. His lover was asleep so John took a quick shower before slipping into bed with him.  
“Feel better?” The words were whispered once John had looped his arms around Jim’s waist.  
“As good as I will be until you are healed.” John responded.  
“I love you Captain, my soldier.”  
“And I love you my king.”

 


End file.
